


Please Daddy, I'll Be Good

by Sexxica



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Blow Jobs, Consensual Kink, Crying, Daddy John, Daddy Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sherlock playing young, Younger Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1493893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexxica/pseuds/Sexxica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has been bad again, but Daddy John just can't stay mad at his needy little boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Daddy, I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> As noted in the tags, this is a consensual age play situation in which Sherlock is playing significantly younger (read: child-like) to a canon aged John in a sexual situation. If this squicks you out, please don't go any further.

“Sherlock, would you come in here please?” John called from the sitting room, his voice even, but displeasure was clear in his tone.  He sat in the middle of the couch, Sherlock’s laptop open in front of him on the coffee table. 

Sherlock peered out of the kitchen and his face blanched at the sight -- he knew this had been coming.  “Y-yes Daddy?” he said from where he stood.

“Come here Sherlock.” John said firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.  Sherlock reluctantly walked across the room to stand at one end of the coffee table, hoping it was close enough.  “Sit.” John instructed, and slid over on the couch, indicating that Sherlock was to sit next to him.  Sherlock swallowed hard and did as he was told.  He refused to look at John or the laptop.  “What is this?” John questioned, gesturing toward what was displayed on the laptop screen.  Sherlock didn’t have to look to know what it was.

“I don’t know Daddy.” Sherlock lied, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

“You don’t know?” John scoffed.  “Sherlock, there’s an entire folder of this stuff on your computer.”  John was scrolling through picture after picture, and Sherlock felt like his stomach had dropped somewhere near his ankles and his entire face was burning.  He clutched compulsively at the fabric of his trousers at his knees.  John stopped at a particularly damning photo -- a young, so young looking boy, all angles and pale skin and a mess of dark hair, kneeling comfortably between an older mans knees.  It was obvious from the bliss on the older man’s face what was going on.

Sherlock heard John take a deep and steadying breath next to him.  “Do you really think this is appropriate material for someone your age to be looking at, Sherlock?”

“N-no Daddy.” Sherlock said, his voice small, quiet, nearly a whisper.  Every word he said threatened to break out in a sob if he wasn’t careful.  

“I’m really disappointed in you Sherlock, so what are we to do about it, huh?”

“I don’t …. I don’t ….” And there it was.  Hot tears spilled down Sherlock’s cheeks and his chest heaved with a broken sob.

“Shh, shh, come on Sherlock, there’s no need to cry.” John soothed, wrapping an arm around Sherlock’s shoulders and drawing him into a hug. 

Sherlock pressed his wet face into John’s jumper, clutched onto the material and cried hard.  “I’m sorry Daddy, so sorry.” He mumbled between ragged breaths, over and over as John smoothed a hand over his back, continueing to make soothing noises.  John let him cry it out, and soon his tears stopped and he flopped over into John’s lap, nuzzling his face into John’s warm thigh.

John sighed and pulled off his rather damp jumper before placing one hand on Sherlock’s hip, the other brushed the curls off his forehead.  “I got you this laptop for your schoolwork, Sherlock.”  John said, fingers carding through Sherlock’s hair. “If you can’t be trusted to keep off of these filthy websites, I’m going to have to take it away.” 

“Daddy!” Sherlock protested, raising himself up to look John in the eyes.  He couldn’t take the laptop away, just couldn’t.  He needed it.

“I’m sorry Sherlock, but that’s how it’s going to be.  You’re too young to be looking at that stuff, okay?”

“No Daddy, please don’t take it away.” Sherlock pleaded, his eyes wide and his mouth in an exaggerated pout. He climbed up into John’s lap, straddling his legs and sitting his bum down on John’s thighs.  “Please Daddy, I’ll be good.” Sherlock said, sticking out his bottom lip and putting his hands up on John’s shoulders.  “I promise Daddy, I promise I’ll be good.”

John gazed up at his sullen face, still blotchy from the tears, and sighed.  It was so hard to stay mad at his little boy.  John ran his hands up and down the tops of Sherlock’s thighs.  “Alright, I won’t take the laptop away, but.”  Sherlock’s face lit up with joy. “BUT, you will do the dishes for the rest of the month  _ and _ keep your room tidy  _ and _ only use it under my supervision.”  Sherlock gave one enthusiastic nod.

“Oh thank you Daddy, thank you!” he squealed excitedly, squirming in John’s lap. John had to bite back a groan at the sensation.

“Come on, give Daddy a kiss.”  John smiled, and Sherlock leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on John’s lips, then another lingering one.  John’s grip tightened on Sherlock’s thighs.

“Daddy?” Sherlock questioned, his cheeks blushing a deep pink, “is it wrong that I like to touch myself?”

“No, no of course not Sherlock, you know that, but you shouldn’t be looking at those websites.  If you have questions you should come to me.  I know what a curious thing you are.”  John said quietly, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on the insides of Sherlock’s thighs.

“Would … would you touch me, Daddy?” 

“Sherlock,” John tsked, “I thought you said you were going to be good.”

“Please Daddy? I just … it feels so nice when you do it.” Sherlock mumbled, looking at John through his thick, dark lashes, cheeks flushed.

John took an exasperated sounding breath, then looked up into Sherlock’s eyes.  His face was the perfect picture of guileless, expectant innocence.  John always marveled at Sherlock’s ability to put himself so completely into character.  John sighed.  “Sherlock …” he started.

“Please, Daddy?” Sherlock whispered, smoothing his hands over John’s checked shirt, pushing his hips forward on John’s lap.  John couldn’t stifle his groan this time, and his eyes fluttered shut briefly.  Sherlock leaned forward to press another slow kiss to John’s lips.  “I won’t be naughty anymore Daddy.  I’ll delete it all.  Just …. please?” Sherlock breathed against John’s lips as he reached down to slide John’s hand all the way up his thigh to meet the bulge in his trousers.

John gave a frustrated groan. “Oh god Sherlock.  It’s not right.” he protested half-heartedly, his hand not moving from Sherlock’s trouser-covered cock. 

Sherlock rolled his hips into John’s hand.  “I won’t tell, Daddy. I know the rules, I promise. Please?” Sherlock drew out the please into a low, needy whine.  Yes, it was so hard to stay mad at his little boy.

“Daddy spoils you.” John sighed, reaching up with one hand to the back of Sherlock’s head, pulling him for a kiss while his other hand started to unbutton Sherlock’s crisp, white shirt.  John felt Sherlock smile a little against his lips.  Getting his way despite being an incorrigible brat was his favourite part in all this.  

John worked each button open, pulling the tails of the shirt out of Sherlock’s trousers and slipping it off his shoulders to let it fall to the floor.  He tapped Sherlock’s thighs. “Come on, up.” he instructed, and Sherlock slipped off his lap to stand in front of him.  John reached forward and unbuttoned Sherlock’s trousers, slipping them and his pants off his slender, bony hips.  Sherlock blushed a deep pink as he stepped out of them, but made no attempt to hide himself.  John licked his lips.  God Sherlock was beautiful, especially when he was all flushed and wanting, like he was now.

John put his hands on Sherlock’s hips and turned him around before pulling him back down into his lap.  Sherlock squirmed briefly and propped his heels up on the edge of the couch on either side of John’s knees, settled his head on John’s shoulder.  John kept one arm wrapped around Sherlock’s chest, his palm gripping Sherlock’s shoulder loosely, while the other trailed ticklishly down his ribs.

“Daddy!” Sherlock giggled, and tried to wriggle away, but John held him tight, smiling into his neck.

“You wanted me to touch you, didn’t you?” John teased, tracing his fingers back over Sherlock’s ribs, then down to his bony hips.

“That's … ha … that’s not what I meant.” Sherlock gasped and whined, struggling against John’s grip.

“Oh I know, Sherlock, you want Daddy to be as naughty as you are, isn’t that right?” John said low in Sherlock’s ear, his fingertips brushing the underside of Sherlock’s stiff cock.  Sherlock keened at the touch.  “You want Daddy to do dirty things to you.”  John continued, wrapping his hand around Sherlock’s leaking cock, holding the writhing man tight against his chest.  “Come on, tell Daddy what you are.” John growled starting to stroke Sherlock slowly.

“Daddy.” Sherlock whined breathlessly.  John picked up the pace with his strokes, smearing Sherlock’s precome.  God he got so wet, it drove John mad.  He couldn’t help but rock his hips up into Sherlock’s arse, groaning at the pressure on his trapped erection.

“Tell.  Daddy.  What.  You are.” John repeated, stroking Sherlock’s cock faster now, twisting on the upstroke, getting his grip just right.  Sherlock was panting and moaning, clutching tightly onto the arm John had around his chest.  He always came so hard and so very quickly for his Daddy.

“I’m … ohh … I’m Daddy’s … ahh … Daddy’s naughty boy!” Sherlock moaned out, trying to pump his hips up into John’s fist -- always wanting more.

John obliged, stroking Sherlock fast, his grip tight, and groaned in Sherlock’s ear, “that’s right, Sherlock, always Daddy’s naughty boy.”  John felt Sherlock tense at the words, felt his ribs expand with a gasp of breath before Sherlock was cumming over John’s hand, and painting his own chest with streaks of white.

“Ohh Daddy!” Sherlock shouted as his orgasm tore through him, the splashes of his own cum on his chest and stomach a secondary sensation to the rolling waves of intense pleasure that made his muscles go taut and sparks shoot off behind his eyelids.  

“Mmm good boy,” John coaxed as he continued to stroke Sherlock through his shuddering orgasm. “Such a good, dirty little boy for Daddy.”  

Sherlock moaned and mewled and gasped until he was completely spent, slumping back against John’s chest as John reached for the box of tissues he kept handy.  John wiped his slick hand off, then tenderly wiped down Sherlock’s chest and stomach, placing a kiss on the side of his neck. 

“Thank you Daddy,” Sherlock sighed, starting to stand up from John’s lap.

“And where do you think you’re going?” John questioned, pulling Sherlock back down against him.  “I thought you weren’t going to be naughty anymore.”

“I … I’m not Daddy.” Sherlock said, clearly confused.

John gripped Sherlock’s hips tightly, pressed him down as he rocked his hips up, grinding his clothed erection into Sherlock’s arse.  “Do you think good boys leave their Daddies wanting, especially after Daddy has been so very nice to them?”

Sherlock blushed, “no Daddy.”

“That’s right. Now if you like those pictures on your computer so much, why don’t you get down on your knees for Daddy?”

Sherlock let out a small whimper at that and slipped off John’s lap down to the floor between his knees.  He ran his hands excitedly up and down John’s thighs, watching intently as John unbuttoned his jeans and reached in to pull his stiff cock out of the parted fabric.

“Be a good boy Sherlock, suck your Daddy off.” John smirked a little as he gave himself a slow stroke, watched the hungry look in Sherlock’s eyes.  So eager to please now.  Sherlock leaned forward and lick a long strip up the underside of John’s cock as John held the base, then Sherlock licked up each side; his tongue warm and wet, leaving a slick and shining trail with each swipe.

Sherlock pooled spit in his mouth before wrapping his lips around the head of John’s cock, making sure the glide was smooth, slippery, almost sloppy.  He sunk his mouth down on John until his lips met John’s fingers.  John reached out with his other hand to twist his fingers into Sherlock’s hair, held him flush against himself for a moment before letting him pull off.  John groaned at the sight of Sherlock’s lips wrapped around him, his cheeks flushed and still faintly tracked with his earlier tears.

“Fuck that’s pretty.  My pretty little boy with his perfect mouth being put to good use.  Show me how clever you are Sherlock.  Show Daddy what you learned from those dirty websites.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and set to work swirling and rubbing his tongue against the head of John’s cock before dipping down until it bumped against the back of his throat.  He bobbed and sucked, his cheeks hollowing out with the suction, as the pleasant weight of John’s hand on the back of his head, and his pleased gasps and moans spurred him on.  

He reached out to grip John’s cock, and John moved his own hand aside without complaint. Sherlock stroked as he sucked, getting the rhythm just right, his spit keeping everything slick.  Sherlock squeezed gently, twisted his fist with each stroke as he sucked hard, swirling his tongue as obscene wet sounds filled the room.

John groaned low and long in his throat and his grip tightened on Sherlock’s hair.  “That’s it,” he panted, “that’s Daddy’s good boy.  Such a … ahh!” John gasped and held Sherlock down, who was keeping a rapid pace with his hand, his mouth latched onto the head of John’s cock. “Ohh good boy Sherlock.” John moaned out, his cock twitching as he came in Sherlock’s mouth.  He watched as Sherlock greedily swallowed it, sucking and licking at him as John shivered with the aftershocks of his orgasm.  John nearly had to pull him off when he grew too sensitive for Sherlock’s eager ministrations.  “That’s Daddy’s good boy, Sherlock.” he sighed contentedly.

“Thank you, Daddy.” Sherlock whispered, almost reverently, looking up at John and seeming more relaxed than John had seen him in a long time.

John smoothed Sherlock’s curls off his forehead before bending down to give him a kiss there.  He shifted on the couch to lay down, pulling Sherlock up with him, wrapping him in a tight hug.  John nuzzled his face into the back of Sherlock’s neck, giving him lazy kisses as Sherlock relaxed into him.

John was just starting to doze off when Sherlock’s voice brought him back from the edge of sleep.  “John?” he asked.

“Mhmm?” John murmured sleepily.

“Do I really have to do the dishes for the rest of the month?” Sherlock questioned, an edge of concern in his voice.

John snorted and pulled him in impossibly closer, “no, you wonderful, daft man.  I know better than to expect anything like that.”

“Mmm good.” Sherlock answered, and then after a moment’s pause added, “thank you, John. I … needed this.”

“I know Sherlock. Now just lie with me here for a bit, alright?  You know I have a hard time watching you cry.”

“Yes, John.” Sherlock said, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around them both and settling in comfortably.  He would let John hold onto him just as long as he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Tumblr!](http://sexxicawrites.tumblr.com/)


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